The Butcher of Hogsmeade

Shen Hou stared blankly at the triangular military dagger that was back in his hand for a while, then suddenly asked, "Did you use Legilimency to look into my head again?"

"Only when necessary," Dumbledore replied, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

"Like just now, when you were preparing to give me a lecture?" Shen Hou pressed.

Dumbledore was speechless for a long time before finally asking, "You seem to have absolutely no objection to the act of taking another person's life?"

"It's not that I have no objection to taking another's life, it's that I have no objection to protecting my own life and the lives of others." Shen Hou seemed to understand Dumbledore's thoughts. "This question should be asked of you. Please answer me honestly: would you object to my act of saving the lives of the Prewitt brothers?"

"Of course not, but..." Dumbledore immediately guessed Shen Hou's plan. He tried to interrupt, but Shen Hou interrupted him with an even louder voice and in a more impolite manner.

"Would you object to my actions in protecting the medical staff and patients at St. Mungo's Hospital?"

"These shouldn't be confused..."

"So you object to an innocent person being hunted doing everything in their power to protect their home and life?"

Thanks to some unknown reason, Shen Hou's English was extremely fluent, and the painful experience of taking the CET-4 exam in college seemed like a distant memory; it was precisely because of this that he was able to create an imposing aura for himself in front of Dumbledore with a series of long sentences.

Three questions in a row could not possibly elicit a "yes" answer, and Dumbledore remained silent for a long time, because he could not possibly answer with a simple "no."

Shen Hou then asked, "Professor Dumbledore, are you pitying those dark wizards who attempted to murder others but failed?"

"Every life lost deserves pity."

"Are you a devout Christian?" Shen Hou asked in a surprising way.

"Hmm?" Dumbledore's expression changed drastically. "Of course not, why would you think that?"

"Because this idea, which does not distinguish between good and evil, good and bad, and treats everyone equally, is derived from the Bible. Before God, everyone is equal, whether good or bad, all are lambs; under the secular moral view, when a sinner is killed, people will despise him and say that he deserves it. Only devout Christians will sign the cross over the corpse of a condemned prisoner under the gallows."

"No, I am not a Christian," Dumbledore emphasized again solemnly.

"Yes, what I read in 'The History of Magic' is that much of the hatred between wizards and Muggles stems from religious beliefs and the church; wizards don't necessarily hate the church, but they don't have much affection for it either... That's why I find it strange! A person's thoughts inevitably depend on what they have learned and experienced in their life. You are the most renowned white wizard of our time, who once saved the magical world, and yet you feel pity for a few dark wizards who tried to murder you for money?"

"What I care about is not whether they are guilty or deserve to die, but whether you will become more indifferent to the lives of others from now on."

"Thank you for your concern, but... if I disregarded the lives of others, the dark wizards who stormed the safe house wouldn't have survived with more than half of them."

Just then, James and Sirius Apparated over. The Anti-Apparition Charm had been broken, so they didn't have to walk the last leg of the journey like Dumbledore did.

"Professor Dumbledore, we have received a message from our Patronus..." James announced loudly.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, please go to the safe house and bring out all the living dark wizards. Although they have all been petrified, please be careful. Those people should be handed over to the Ministry of Magic first, and then sent to St. Mungo's for treatment. As for the bodies of the dead dark wizards, leave them where they are for now, pending investigation by the Aurors."

"Oh, okay, Professor Dumbledore." James paused, his initial joy at Shen Hou's safety gradually waning as he noticed the atmosphere between Dumbledore and Shen Hou seemed somewhat tense.

Shen Hou suddenly asked, "Why do I feel like the Ministry of Magic's reaction is a bit slow? I could understand if they were a little slower than Professor Dumbledore, but slower than James and Sirius... Isn't the fireplace in the post office directly connected to the Ministry of Magic?"

"Yes, so I was just about to go to the post office," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to come with me, Mr. Shen?"

"Me?" Shen Hou was quite surprised. He glanced subconsciously at the two obviously more suitable candidates beside him, but finally nodded. "Of course, I'm curious too."

Dumbledore walked very fast, so fast that Shen Hou wondered if the old man had learned a kind of light-footed skill like "Eight Steps to Catch the Cicada". His long strides made him look nothing like a centenarian, so much so that Shen Hou had to jog to keep up.

"Did they secretly use magic?" Shen Hou muttered softly, his voice just loud enough for Dumbledore to hear, but the old man ignored him.

When I arrived at the post office, I looked through the glass door and saw that it was brightly lit inside, but completely silent.

Dumbledore pushed open the door and entered, slowing down with each step, walking steadily and cautiously.

There were three counter windows in a row, but only the middle one was occupied. However, the person in the middle seemed oblivious to Dumbledore and Shen Hou's arrival, staring blankly at the ground, and said in a mechanical and monotonous tone, "The post office is temporarily closed and services are suspended..."

"What's going on here, sir?" Dumbledore asked softly.

"The post office is temporarily closed and services are suspended..." The post office clerk behind the window repeated the same sentence without even looking at Dumbledore.

Shen Hou cautiously walked to the partition, peeked into the inner work area behind the window, and after only one glance, quickly called out, "Come and see this way, Professor Dumbledore?"

A figure lay slumped behind the counter, half of his face turned upwards, less than two feet from the post office employee who was repeating himself; because the counter blocked his view, one had to lean over to see him.

Dumbledore glanced around, then quickly looked back at his surroundings, asking, "Do you recognize that person? Is he also a post office employee?"

"I recognize him. I've met him a few times. He's a new employee who just joined the company recently. Barty Crouch Jr., you might have heard of him?"

"The son of the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"

"Yes. He looks like he's been attacked. Aren't we going to help?"

"Wait a minute." Dumbledore's gaze fell on the ceiling of the work area, and he pointed silently with his wand.

With a "pop," the wand seemed to puncture an invisible bubble, and a thick black liquid sprayed down, covering the entire ground.